


Lay Your Weary Head To Rest

by Kaijuscientists



Series: Fictober 2019 [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Constant Vigilance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Fluff, M/M, Tired Crowley (Good Omens), Whump, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), after the non-apocalypse, crowley is hella paranoid, insomnia kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 02:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21128951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaijuscientists/pseuds/Kaijuscientists
Summary: Crowley is so sure, so convinced that if he sleeps, something bad will happen, and he will not be able to do anything about it.  So he just doesn't sleep, even if his corporation has gotten used to it.





	Lay Your Weary Head To Rest

**Author's Note:**

> this doesn't really hit on any of the prompts for whumptober specifically, but i liked it all the same.
> 
> Title from Kansas - carry one my wayward son cuz why not.

Aziraphale stood in front of Crowley’s door, debating on whether or not he should knock. Not because he thought the demon wouldn’t want to see him, or would be mad that he was here. No, he was debating because it was past midnight, and he hoped that Crowely was asleep, but had a hunch he wasn’t. 

Doubt stuck in his mind, if Crowley was asleep, he’d be waking him up. But not enough to stop him. 

“Angel. I wasn’t expecting you. Or anyone.” Crowley said when he answered the door just moments later. “Not at this hour.”

More than anything, Aziraphale is struck with the fact that Crowley was not wearing his glasses. The evidence that supported his suspicions written plain as day across Crowley’s face. Large bags under his eyes, skin paler than normal. 

Not to mention the fact that Crowley answered the door so quickly, there was no way he’d been asleep. 

“Sorry dear,” Aziroahale said, unconsciously leaning forwards. “I hope I didn’t wake you?”

“You didn’t.” Crowley said, stepping aside to open the door. “You coming in?”

“Oh yes, thank you.” 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much here right now, ‘Cept maybe some bad wine.” Crowley said, gesturing towards his barley used kitchen, as he moved to stand near the window. “I might have finished that off though, can’t remember.”

“That’s quite alright, dear. I’m not here for anything like that.” Aziraphale started. “I wanted to ask, to see if you‘re alright?”

“I’m fine.” Crowley replied tiredly, couldn’t be bothered to turn around. 

“Crowley, don’t lie to me.” Aziraphale said, stepping forward, closer to the demon. “You’re exhausted.”

“I really am fine, promise angel.” Crowley said, faintly annoyed, facing Aziraphale finally, his lips parted and teeth bared. Aziraphale is taken aback, that Crowley seemed almost offended by his concern. 

“I don’t believe you are.” Aziraphale whispered. “I’ve been more than a little worried as of late.”

“Angel,” Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “There is absolutely nothing for you to worry about, trust me I’d know.”

When he moved to rub his eyes, he realized with a start that he did not have his shades, that Aziraphale could see how bad he knew he looked. A quick snap of his fingers set them on, hiding his tired eyes away. 

“You see, that’s what I am worried about. Crowley, please be honest, when was the last time you slept?”

“Months,” he muttered, gaze down to the floor, refusing to meet Aziraphale’s eyes. ”Last I slept was when you spent the night here. ”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale gasped sharply, looking down, he catalogues through the months, examining each moment they had spent together. “That was 7 months ago.”

And perhaps, he had noticed a pattern, but had been to naive, too involved in his own routines to notice it much. 

Perhaps he had noticed that Crowley’s habit of circling him had not stopped after the near end of the world. Even if it was unnecessary these days, a habit like that, forced after so many years of being on guard is hard to break. 

Maybe he had noticed that Crowley surveyed every room they entered, but had just written it off, again, an old habit. 

And lately, Crowley never let Aziraphale see his eyes. Always hiding away behind his sunglasses, as if they were armor that would protect him.

He should have realized something was wrong much sooner. 

“Yeah? I’m well aware.”

“Please do not take this the wrong way.” Aziraphale said, softly, trying to keep his tone gentle. “But you look terrible.”

Crowley just rolled his eyes, before stomping away from the conversation. 

“Crowley! Where are you going?”

“Away from your nagging.”

“I’d hardly consider it nagging,” Aziraphale said sternly. “I’m concerned about your wellbeing.”

“My being is fine!” Crowley yelled, turning rapidly on his heel and hissing at Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale can see the exact second Crowley regretted that specific reaction, his face dropping

“You’re tired, so i’ll excuse that outburst.” Aziraphale said carefully. “But this is what I mean, you’re so used to sleeping, you’re corporation wants it.”

“Angel,” Crowley said sadly, his entire being seeming to sag under the weight of his exhaustion, he leaned heavily against the wall. “I can’t, if I sleep I can’t make sure no one’s coming after us.”

“Dear, they haven’t tried anything since we swapped, I doubt they will anytime soon.” Aziraphale said, slowly approaching the demon. “We give both our sides a proper scare.”

“No, can’t let our guard down. That’s what they’re waiting for. I can feel it.” Crowely shook his head, looking down at Aziraphale as if he were moments away from crying, the angel now stood right in front of him. 

“You can’t be vigilant forever.” Aziraphale took Crowleys’s hand, gently pulling him, intent on leading him to his bedroom “Nothing bad will happen if you stop for a while.”

Aziraphale sets Crowley on his bed, changed into a set of black flannel pajamas. 

“Soon as I’m asleep, hell will know.” Crowley mumbled, lifting an arm and inspecting his new clothes. He looked back up at the angel so quick, Aziraphale swore he heard vertebrae pop. “They send hastur after you.”

“They won’t know a thing.” Aziraphale said. Gently, he guided Crowley to lay down, even now the demon struggled against him. He was so sleepy and exhausted it’s wasn’t much of a fight. “You can rest.” 

“No, Angel.” Crowley whispered, his body relaxed into the bed against his will as Aziraphale pulled his comforter over him, overjoyed to be horizontal at last. His eyelids were so heavy, every blink a monumental effort, and when his angel began to card his fingers through his hair, the battle was as good as lost. 

“I’ll keep watch, like you’ve always done for me.” Aziraphale said quietly, smiling fondly when Crowley breathing evens out, finally getting the rest he deserved.


End file.
